


Put Your Helmet On

by PsychoVigilante



Series: Pseudo-incest with Jason Todd [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Ejaculation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasizing, Forbidden Love, Guilt, Kissing, Male Dominance, Moaning, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Pseudo-Incest, Self-Doubt, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Under Table Groping, Yoga, baby girl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoVigilante/pseuds/PsychoVigilante
Summary: Reader prefers Red Hood over Jason Todd, refusing to admit that they were the same person. Jason attempts to prove to Reader how sexy he can be- just as sexy as the badass vigilante Red Hood.





	Put Your Helmet On

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested to me by @redhoodjessicaleeigh on Tumblr. I got carried away writing this, apologies for the length!

You were normal. 

For a _Wayne_. 

Your adoptive older brothers- Dick, Jason, Tim- they weren’t normal. Neither was your adoptive father Bruce. 

Sure they were normal during the day, but at night they turned into aggressive, self-righteous, delusional idiots who tried to help people in the most unconventional way. 

But, they meant well. 

They juggled their normal lives and their vigilante lives quite well, except for Jason. Jason didn’t have a normal day job. In fact, you weren’t exactly sure what he did during the day. 

When Bruce adopted you and you found out about the family business, you automatically without any hesitation said no. You did not want to be a part of that. You were lucky enough to be adopted by Bruce Wayne and took on his last name, escaped the orphanage and the horrible foster system. 

You would have been utterly insane to throw away a normal rich girl’s life to fight crime in a city that was infamous and ridiculed for its excessive thugs and criminals. 

But despite how you personally declined that life, you respected your family tremendously for taking up the responsibility you would never have taken. 

Frankly, you were a fan of their work. You had posters of Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin up on your walls. You made sure to separate your brothers’ and their alter egos.  
Your favourite was Red Hood. He was badass. 

Jason? Not so much. 

And you made it known how you felt about it. 

“Red Hood is so fucking hot,” you sighed when you caught a glimpse of him in a blurry video a bystander took that the news was broadcasting while you flipped through the channels, lounging on the sofa. 

Despite being a college freshman, you normally wouldn’t have time to just lounge around at home, but since you were on your break, you had all the time in the world. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jason smugly grinned next to you. 

“I’m pretty sure I said that Red Hood was hot. Not Jason Todd,” you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“We’re the same person!” he exclaimed. 

“Nah, you’re not. Red Hood is a butt kicking badass who wears cargo pants and kevlar and a leather jacket,” you pointed out, “You on the other hand are wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.”

“So what if I went to change into cargo pants and a leather jacket right now? Would I be hot then?” he demanded. 

“If you wore your helmet, then sure,” you smirked. 

“But that’s still me!” he argued. 

“No, if you wore your helmet, you’d be Red Hood,” you grinned, “And every trace of Jason Todd would be absent.”

He glared at you. 

“Like you’re so hot,” he shot back. 

“Jason, I _know_ I’m hot. And I don’t even have to be a vigilante,” you unashamedly praised yourself. You kept yourself fit by working out, and kept yourself flexible with yoga and ballet. 

You were lean, your stature straight and tall. You had average sized breasts and a toned ass. You knew he was trying to pick on you because he was butthurt. 

But you were confident with how you looked, because you worked damn hard to look the way you did. 

“If only you were a vigilante, then maybe you’d be hot too,” he tried to get under your skin, “Why not become Robin? I’m sure the mask would be a major improvement to how you look.”

“Jason, we both know you think I’m sexy even without the help of a uniform,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re too full of yourself, doll,” he poked back. 

“Like you aren’t?”

He stared you down with his icy blue eyes, clearly displeased. He crossed his arms and looked at the TV. 

“Do you think Nightwing is hot, then?” he grumbled. 

“Oh, definitely,” you dreamily replied. 

“But you don’t think Dick is hot?” he jeered. 

“Oh no. Dick is also definitely hot,” you stated. 

“I am so fucking done-” he growled and left you alone on the sofa chuckling to yourself. 

Of course you thought that Jason was unbelievably sexy. Only a blind person would deny that. He wasn’t prince charming handsome like Dick was, but he was the edgy bad boy stereotype that always had your panties in a twist. 

But you weren’t going to ever admit that to Jason. Teasing him was too fun, especially when he reacted so defensively. 

Additionally, talking about how hot your older brothers were superficially was acceptable, but with Jason, you _fantasized_ about him. 

You would mostly dream about being bent over Red Hood’s lap, him spanking you with his gloved hand. But sometimes your fantasies would blur and instead of Red Hood on top of you, holding you down, it would be Jason, your adopted brother. 

You would feel ashamed of yourself. Which was why you refused to ever admit it out loud. You wanted to shove those impure thoughts to the back of your head. 

Because it was all sorts of _wrong_ to think about him that way. 

But then Jason just had to be his narcissistic self and tried his best to prove you wrong after you hurt his ego. 

Normally, Dick was the one who would be walking around the manor without his shirt on, sometimes dripping in sweat which meant that he had just finished working out or sparring with one of the other boys. 

Normally, Jason would be more _conservative_ with how he dressed in the house. In fact, you were sure you never saw him without his shirt on. 

Up until two days after the conversation in front of the TV, that is. It was a Saturday morning, and you just finished your morning jog around the manor grounds. You skipped to the kitchen to pour yourself a tall glass of cold water. 

You were in front of the opened refrigerator, cold air blowing on you. You jumped when you saw an arm next to your head. You turned your head and saw Jason, shirtless right behind you. 

One of his muscled arm was holding the fridge door. He leaned into you slightly as he reached for the carton of orange juice, giving you an illusion of being trapped in between him and the fridge. 

His gaze was strong, a slight intensity in his eyes, and a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he brought the juice to his mouth and drank straight from the carton, not breaking eye contact with you once. 

He took a few gulps, and then licked his lips which were still glistening with orange juice. Staring at them, you wanted to taste the artificial sweetness from his mouth. Your eyes quickly darted down to his hard chest, which was at your eye level. 

It was hard to miss the beads of sweat that formed on his toned pectorals, which dripped down to his washboard abs, and the V that cut sharply into his gym shorts. 

“Like what you see, princess?” he whispered. 

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his. 

“Alfred!” you yelled, “Jason just drank straight from the carton!”

You laughed out loud when you saw his eyes widen in panic. He stepped away from you, now fuming, his hands curled into fists. 

“You’re such a fucking-” 

“Master Todd, if you insist on behaving like a savage then perhaps you could sleep outside like one,” Alfred came into the kitchen, scolding Jason. 

You chuckled as you walked away to shower, turning back once more to see Jason’s naked back, his head bowed down while he looked shamefully at his feet. You quickly turned away to stop yourself from thinking too much about how his toned back would look like covered in your scratches. 

In the shower, you thought about the competition Jason had silently instigated. He wanted to prove to you that he was just as sexy as Red Hood. 

You knew Jason’s idea was to see how much it would take until you admitted it to him, but you were sure it hadn’t crossed his mind that you would actually retaliate. 

_Game on, asshole_ . 

***

Bruce had a gym in the manor that everyone used. He of course, would work out alone. The boys would sometimes go together, but like your adopted father, you also preferred to work out alone. 

Jason knew that. 

But one day he invited you to work out with him. Something about helping him with his form. But you knew what he was playing at. 

“Let me change first. I’ll meet you there,” you had agreed. 

You wish you could have snapped the look on Jason’s face when you had entered the gym. He covered it quickly. The normal person wouldn’t have caught how his eyes widen slightly and quickly darted up and down your form, or how his mouth went slack for just a few milliseconds. 

Bruce had trained you not only in self defense, but also in the art of body language, and his training had proved useful for you multiple times before. Right now though, you were grateful that you knew you had an effect on Jason. 

You strutted towards him in the most revealing purple sports bra you owned, and the shortest gym shorts that had ridden up your ass and took its form like a second layer of skin. 

He on the other hand, was shirtless again. As expected. 

“It’s a coincidence that you called me down here,” you started, trying your best to ignore his large bare chest, “I was planning on doing some yoga today. What do you need help with?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing too complicated. I just need someone to hold my feet while I do sit ups, and correct my form when I lift, that’s all. Normally either Dick or Tim would help me but since they’re not here…”

You smiled to yourself. Physical fitness was their lifestyle, they didn’t need each other to correct basic forms. But you entertained him anyway. 

You admit, it was hard to not stare at him when you held his ankles down when he did sit ups. When he swung his upper body towards you, his hands at the back of his head, you could feel the warm breath of his exhale. His hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat. He held your eyes as he counted to himself. 

You automatically imagined that was what he would look like if he were fucking you missionary, his face further and then nearer to yours, and then further and then nearer again. 

You rubbed your thighs together, and forced yourself to focus. You couldn’t break. You wanted to win this petty game. 

This wasn’t about seduction. This was about ego. 

Of course this wasn’t about seduction. You were siblings. It was embarrassing how often you had to remind yourself. 

“Thanks, sweets. You can do your yoga now. I can handle the rest myself,” he winked at me when he was done and got up to do weights. 

You unrolled your yoga mat and decided to give him a show.

You listed in your head the positions you knew were the most compromising. 

You lied on your back and brought your knees to your chest. You straightened your legs so that they were perpendicular to the floor, and braced your hips with your arms. After a few seconds you let out a soft grunt. 

You saw Jason glance at you once, and then went back to look at himself in the mirror wall. 

Deciding to immediately step it up, you went planted your feet and your palms to the floor, jutting your ass to the ceiling, forming an upside-down V with your body, the downward dog. Since your head was upside down, you could see Jason behind you in this position. 

His mouth was slack again as he stared at you, this time not looking away. He was looking at your ass, but then caught your eyes. 

Without breaking eye contact with him, you slowly moved your legs around three feet apart from each other and brought your chest closer to your legs. Coincidentally, this position was also a sex position. 

The dumbbell he was holding slipped from his grip, causing a loud thump to echo in the room. It missed his toes by a few inches. 

You smirked and straightened up, ending your session. You walked over to Jason, who was cursing under his breath. 

“Thanks for inviting me to work out with you today, Jay. We should do it more often,” you smiled innocently at him. 

“Yeah, no problem,” he flustered. 

You walked out, but stopped at the door and turned around to him. 

“It’s a shame really,” you began.

“What is?” he inquired. 

“If only you wore your helmet during workouts,” you jested, and left without waiting for a reply. 

In the distance, you could hear a loud metallic clang coming from the gym room. 

*** 

“Annual ball next weekend. Keep your schedules free,” Bruce announced during dinner, a rare instance that all of you were together sitting down at the dining table. 

“I don’t need to be at your stupid balls, do I?” Jason complained, “I’m technically dead.”

“No, you don’t,” Bruce considered, “But since the rest of your siblings are forced to, it’s only fair that you suffer with them as well.”

Tim sniggered at Jason. 

“You could also consider this a punishment for breaking the gym equipment,” Bruce added. 

“How the hell did you break the gym equipment?” Dick looked at Jason incredulously. 

“With my hands,” he replied, attempting to sound witty but instead sounding like a grumbling five year-old, picking at the broccoli on his plate with a fork. 

“Black tie?” Tim asked. 

“Of course,” Bruce simply replied, “Look your best. A lot of media will be present, as usual.”

After dinner, the five of you stayed in for a movie night. You were sitting on the sofa, sandwiched between Tim and Jason. Dick was stretched out on the floor nearest to Tim, and Bruce was on the single seat couch. 

“What will you be wearing to the ball?” Jason whispered in your ear, too low for anyone else to hear over the state-of-the-art sound system. He had his arm stretched behind you, resting on the head of the sofa.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll pick something out tomorrow,” you whispered back. 

“Purple suits you,” he grazed his teeth on your earlobe.

“You like what you saw during workout, Jay? Just admit it and we can end this competition,” you smirked at him. 

Even in the dim light you could see the twinkle behind his blue eyes. You didn’t know why your heart was beating hard against your chest, or why your breathing hitched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, doll,” he said lowly, the corners of his lips curling up, “You’re my sister.”

“Yet you insist on having me admit that you’re as hot as Red Hood,” you scoffed. 

“I value my baby sister’s opinion, that’s all,” he clarified, “And we’re the same person, damn it.” 

“And your baby sister says no, you’re not,” you smugly replied and turned to the TV. 

“Just you wait, _baby sister_ ,” he enunciated, warm breath tickling your ear, “I’ll be the one to make you admit it first, and I’ll be the one to win.”

Then, he paid attention to the TV. 

It was exhilarating, the fact that you were both aiming to win this bizzare competition that played on the borderline of what was tabooed. You both silently ignored the boundaries of your consanguineal relationship, and tried to one up each other by seducing the other. 

There was that word again. Seducing. No, you just wanted to break his ego and admit that he found you sexy. 

This was a play of pride, and you were his sister. 

There you went having to remind yourself again. 

But since he was also ignoring the fact that a normal brother-sister relationship would definitely not include competitions like the one that was going on, you felt more relaxed about it and found it easier to push the guilt and shame aside. 

You sighed silently to yourself. What would the other people sitting in that very room say if they ever found out you wanted to fuck your brother?

***  
You fastened the gold necklace around your neck, which complimented the red silk dress you were wearing. 

Your dress was bareback, and had a neckline that plunged all the way down to just above your navel where a red sash accentuated your waist. The dress fell down elegantly to your ankles. It was a sexy, yet classy look. 

The sound of your heels echoed down the hall as you walked to the study where the rest of your family were gathering in. The study had a door that opened to the gala hall on the other side of the manor. 

All four men in identical black suits and bowtie turned to you when you entered the room. 

“Aww, my baby sis looks so grown up,” Dick cooed at you, feigning wiping a tear. 

“We’re gonna have trouble keeping the dudes away from her tonight,” Tim sighed. 

“You look beautiful,” Bruce quietly approached you. 

“Thank you, Bruce,” you whispered to him, “You made me the woman I am today.”

You swore that he had to blink away tears. He was getting soft, and you were glad. 

You glanced at Jason, who looked like he was dumbstruck. You would have laughed at his expression if it wasn’t for the fact that you were caught completely off guard. You had not expect him to look so sexy in a suit. 

You liked Red Hood because he was tough, a badass, a rebel, rough and rugged. You liked Jason because of similar qualities. They were the same person after all. 

You had not expect to be so attracted to him in a suit. His hair was combed back sleekly, his body fit the suit perfectly. You wanted to run your hands down his chest and marvel at the way the suit smoothly fell and accentuated his muscled figure. 

You felt your cheeks heat up and turned to look at the other men. 

“Shall we, boys?” you asked. 

Bruce led the way and opened the door to reveal a decorated hall that seated a couple of hundred people. There were round tables scattered about, and a stage with a podium at one end. 

You had followed behind Bruce, Dick, and Tim, with Jason following slightly behind. He was supposed to be an exchange student from England that Bruce was fostering. Bruce welcomed everyone on stage, and proceeded to mingle with the guests. 

You never really knew what to do at these things. Dick and Tim were popular within the Wayne Enterprise, so they were forced to smile at clients and business partners. Occasionally Bruce would call you to his side and introduce you to important people. 

But the one thing you hated about galas were the men who tried to flirt with you to get closer to Bruce, so you always excused yourself and made your way to the bar. 

You were sipping on a glass of champagne and looking at the crowd of rich old men and women and boisterous young CEOs when you felt a large warm hand on the small of your back. 

You jumped slightly but relaxed when you realized it was Jason. 

The relaxation turned to nervousness quickly, because Jason’s hand was still on your back, burning onto your skin. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked. 

“I’m enjoying the alcohol,” you raised your glass to him. 

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. 

“You clean up well,” you complimented him. 

“You’re surprised?” he questioned. 

“Very,” you admitted, “I didn’t think you’d look this good in a suit.”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“No!” you quickly denied, “I just thought you’d look like your normal, non hot self.”

He smirked and leaned into your ear, his hand now on your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“Listen,” he growled lowly in your ear, which sent heat straight to your already wet pussy. “I know we both are getting tired and frustrated at this back and forth banter. So why don’t you do us both a favor and admit that I’m just as sexy as Red Hood.”

“If you’re getting so tired, Jason, then you admit that you think I’m sexy despite not having an alter ego to hide behind,” you teased back.  
“No,” he protested, “You’re going to be the one to break. I’ll make sure of it.”

He took his hand from your waist and started to walk towards the main table. “Come on, everybody’s sitting down.”

You followed him and took a seat between him and Dick. The table consisted of the five of you and other VIPs that Bruce had charity business with. The servers brought the courses to the tables and everyone dived in, conversing with each other. 

“So, Miss Wayne,” Dr. David Milton, a short and plump man with white hair in his sixties, who happened to be Chief of Medicine at Gotham General Hospital, addressed you from across the table, “How are you doing in college? This is your first year if I’m correct?”

“I’m doing very well, Dr. Milton, thank you for asking,” you smiled sweetly at him, “It does get stressful sometimes, though.”

“My dear, call me David, please,” he chuckled, “What are you most stressed about, if I may ask?”

“Well, despite being a first year, the workload-” you cut yourself off when you felt Jason’s hand on your thigh underneath the table. You tried your best to act natural. “The workload is heavy. The faculty heads want us to get a head start.”

“Well, your course can get pretty intense,” he replied. You tried your best to concentrate on him, but Jason had given your thigh a small squeeze. 

The motherfucker next to you was teasing you right under everyone’s noses. You would have murdered him if you hadn’t found it such a turn on. 

This was his way of speeding things up, and getting you to a level of sexual frustration to the point where you had to break and admit defeat. 

“...is that right, Miss Wayne?” the doctor had asked you a question you weren’t paying attention to. 

You gambled a guess. “Yes, but don’t get me wrong. I really enjoy my course.” 

“Good, good!” he beamed at you, “Bruce, you did a damn good job with your daughter.”

He clapped Bruce’s back. Bruce smiled widely at him. 

“What can I say, David? She’s got both her old man’s beauty and brains,” he chuckled. 

“Let’s just hope she also doesn’t get her old man’s low alcohol tolerance,” Dr. Milton boomed. 

The table broke out in loud guffaws.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered harshly at Jason.

“Winning,” he grinned at you. 

“So Miss Wayne, how similar are your brothers to Bruce here?” Margaret Bloom, newly appointed Head of Administration at Gotham City Orphanage asked you. Coincidentally, it was the orphanage you were from.

“Too similar, Mrs. Bloom!” you let out a superficial laugh, trying to cover the nervousness that overcame you. 

Jason slid his hands higher up your leg, his fingers brushing and playing with the insides of your thigh. 

“I get more ladies, though,” Dick winked at her, which sent her into an inappropriate shade of red causing her husband to glare at Dick. 

More laughter filled the table. 

“Jason, I swear to God-”

“I bet you’re wet, baby,” he said in his lowest voice. 

Although you could hardly believe what had just came out of his mouth, your pussy clenched. This wasn’t okay, was it? This wasn’t appropriate. But you loved it, and you wanted more. 

You found yourself slightly panting. 

You had underestimated his determination to win. Between the two of you, you were usually the sore loser, so you always made sure you won every petty little competition. So seeing Jason so desperately trying to get you to break surprised you. 

You didn’t know what to reply, so you kept quiet, and he kept his hand on your thigh. 

After dessert was served, the guests got up from their chairs to mingle with each other again. Most of them already tipsy from the bubbly champagne. 

“Come with me,” Jason whispered in your ear once everyone else was busy. 

You got up and followed him out of the hall, up the flight of stairs, and into a guest room that had not been used in decades. This wing was separate from where you usually stayed. The wing with your bedrooms was more personal and comfortable. This wing was for events and guests. 

The whole time you were walking, he had his hand around your waist. 

The both of you entered the room, and he locked the door. Leaning on it, he smirked at you, a playful glint in his eyes. 

You stared at each other for what seemed like hours. 

“You’re wearing red,” he broke the silence. 

“I’m glad you’re not color blind,” you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Red is _my_ color. You’re wearing _my_ color,” he informed. 

You frowned. “Technically, it’s Tim’s color too, he also had the word red in his-”

You were cut off, because Jason suddenly moved towards you and grabbed you by the arm, lurching you towards him. The next thing you knew, your back was against the wooden door, his palms flat against it on one side of your head, and the other next to your waist. 

He had moved so fast, you felt like it was all a blur. Right then, you saw only less than a fraction of his skillset, realising how dangerous he was given the right provocation. 

Somehow, that made you want him even more. 

He was leaning very close to you, his breath fanning your face as he panted slightly at the sudden move to trap you against him and the door. His eyes were hooded, and his pupils dilated so widely that it had engulfed the blue eyes like a black hole. 

And like a black hole, you felt those eyes sucking you in, trespassing at the corner of every thought you had about him. 

“Since you’re wearing my color,” he drawled, “that would make you mine, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart was thumping hard against your chest, and you felt a familiar heat pool at the bottom of your stomach. 

“Speechless for once, aren’t you, sugar?” his lips moved to your ear, “Does this make you nervous?”

The hand nearest to your waist had moved to grip your hip, and he slid it up your body painfully slow, stopping right underneath your breast only to move down again, drawing circles on your silk covered skin with his thumb. 

You were scared to say anything, afraid that your voice would give away how much you wanted him. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispered to you, voice breaking out of character. “Tell me I’m taking advantage of my baby sister. Tell me this is wrong. We won’t speak of this again and we’ll end this contest.”

Testing the waters, he licked a strip from the crook of your neck up to your earlobe. 

You moaned softly. 

“You want this, baby girl?” he breathed. 

You closed your eyes and nodded. Before you could open them, you felt his lips against yours, pressing frantically and desperately. You reciprocated the kiss, earning a soft groan from him. 

He tasted like cigarettes and whisky, and everything you’ve ever craved for. 

“Jason,” you moaned when you parted the kiss, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes dark, and he lifted you over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, crossed the room and let you fall on the guest bed. 

He was standing at the edge of the bed, taking off his jacket and loosening his bow tie. His hair was now disheveled and he was sweating. You never saw anyone as sexy as he was at that moment in time. 

Your cunt was practically leaking already. 

You made a motion to take off your dress, only to have both your arms pushed down on the bed above your head. 

“No,” Jason growled on top of you, keeping your arms where they were, “I want to see you get fucked in my colour.”

Without letting go of your wrists, he used his other hand to bunch up your dress to your waist, exposing the lacy red panties you had worn underneath. 

“Baby,” he said in a low voice, eyes still on your panties, “Did you intend to get fucked tonight?”  
“I put them on hoping you would fuck me,” you admitted.

“How long have you wanted my cock, princess?” he smirked at you, pulling the panties down your legs. 

“Almost a year,” you blushed. 

“Hmm,” he replied simply, moving to part your legs and settling in between them. “You’re already soaking wet.”

You felt your face heat up. He leaned above you, supporting himself with one arm while the other unzipped his trousers, freeing his rather large erection. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of it, already leaking at the tip. 

Before you could react to it, before you could even moan at the sight of it, on one swift motion he had already pressed his cock against your hole and pushed in. 

You gasped at the feeling of his dick buried deep inside you, a pressure already starting to build. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned and left you a sloppy kiss. He pulled out and thrusted in again, creating a rhythm that made you close your eyes tightly, thrash about and moan out loud. 

You felt your pussy getting tighter and tighter, ready to peak, but before you reached it, all the sensation disappeared. 

You opened your eyes to see Jason grinning deviantly at you. 

“You can’t cum until you tell me I’m as sexy as Red Hood,” he schemed. 

“Are you fucking serious?” you all but yelled at him. 

“Dead serious. Serious as Batman,” he winked, and suddenly thrusted into you again, knocking the breath out of you. 

He started fucking you hard and fast, making you reach the moment before your peak, and then stopped again. 

“I’m not going to admit it Jason,” you panted, extremely frustrated at him, “You need to cum too, and I know you’re not going to last long.”

“We’ll see about that,” he accepted your challenge and started fucking you again. 

The sound of your moans and the bed creaking were thankfully drowned out by the loud music and chatter of the party downstairs. You were glad, because Jason was a fuck machine. The stamina and strength and agility he had as a vigilante was turned into good use in bed. 

He had you climb your peak only to stop, over and over again, keeping you constantly on edge. You were sure before that he would have to give in eventually, but now you were doubting yourself. 

At the thirteenth time he denied you your orgasm- you counted- you were already a sobbing mess, begging for release. 

“Jason, please,” you sputtered, tears streaming down your face, “I need it, please.”

“Then say it, sweetheart,” he breathed heavily, “I can go all night like this.”

He slid his dick inside you again. You were so aroused, you could feel your juices on your thighs which dripped down on the bed. 

The wet sounds were louder than ever as he fucked you again, this time excruciatingly slow. 

“Tell me I’m as hot as Red Hood,” he rocked his hips, “Tell me I won. Tell me, fucking tell me.”

“You win!” you cried, “You’re as hot as Red Hood, Jason, you win! Please, I need to cum, please.”

He let out a growl and then started pounding into you. You finally reached your high and let out a long, vulgar, pornographic moan as you felt your pussy flutter on his dick. He fucked you through your orgasm and then took his cock out, spilling his seed all over your stomach and thighs.

He collapsed next to you, and the only sounds in the room were the loud breaths from the both of you. 

“I’ve never orgasmed like that in my life,” you marveled. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned over to give you a searing kiss. 

“I want more, Jay,” you whispered to him, “I know I shouldn’t. I know this is wrong, but I want more of you.”

“We’re not actually siblings you know,” he smiled slyly. 

“I know,” you sighed, “But what would everyone else think?”

“It doesn’t matter because they’re not going to find out. Not anytime soon, anyway,” he shrugged. 

“We should head back then,” you got up, reaching for a towel that was folded in the wardrobe to clean yourself up, making sure none of Jason’s spunk got on your dress. 

The both of you fixed yourselves up, and head downstairs back to the party. Anything that remotely suggested your older, adoptive, legally dead brother had given you the best orgasm in your life, gone.


End file.
